


Cain and Abel's Zombie Extravaganza!

by DarthVaderC11



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2013-02-04
Packaged: 2017-11-21 22:17:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/602673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthVaderC11/pseuds/DarthVaderC11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Apocalypse fic! Thousands of flesh-eating zombies attack the earth after a bomb destroys all of humanity. Can Ethan survive it alone? Who knows? Who cares? Let's find out...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning of the End

**Author's Note:**

  * For [every one of my tumblr friends :D](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=every+one+of+my+tumblr+friends+%3AD).



> 1\. Sorry there MIGHT be some OC's in here....so sorry. But they're not important so basically just ignore them. There are more (a little bit longer) chapters already written but I just have to edit them one by one before I post them.  
> 2\. T-thank you for checking this out! (thank you to Sconny, Eli, KT, EMathews, Royal Phantom, ehrm...and everyone else :3 I literally would not be on this website without you)  
> 2.5. Side note: I suck at writing fic I'm shaking in my boots right now because this is my first A03 post ever. I hope sempai notices this fic! - No i'm kidding. Please just ignore me.  
> 3\. Everything belongs to Hamletmachine! (gahhh! Hamlet is so awesome >.  
> 4\. THE NEWS REPORT IS SUPPOSED TO BE IN ITALICS D: i don't know it's not letting me change it but if you see anything that doesn't make sense as narration it's most likely supposed to be the news report. Heh.

Phase 1:

A light breeze rustled through billowing lace curtains, pushing them further into the room to cast a sallow shadow over the plush and impeccably white carpet. At the windowsill, Ethan sat gazing idly into the cloudless blue sky. Downstairs everything was slipping steadily into chaos, his parents insisting on having a spring gathering to boost his father’s political standing - of course, they had waited until the last moment to prepare. His mother and the neighbor were fluttering around the massive house, dusting this and cleansing that, bickering lightly at each other before his mother’s calm vocals – a veiled attempt at keeping her cool – drifted through Ethan’s turned door, asking him to join them. The blonde boy sighed, unwillingly leaving his spot at the window to drag his feet onto the hardwood of the stairs.

“Well Deirdre, would you look at this mess? I cleaned underneath of this exact bowl only a few days ago and look at it, just look at the dust! I swear, Deirdre, what’s the point?” Ethan’s mother leaned over, replacing the crystal bowl of fruit on a microscopic layer of dust that littered her coffee table as her green and white speckled spring dress lifted slightly above her knee. 

The other woman sighed, placing a delicate hand atop her hip as she frowned. “I would hardly say there isn’t a point to it; you just have to try harder.” A pout of boredom stained her scarlet lips and brought a hopeless crease to her blonde brow before she spotted Ethan from the corner of her eye. “There you are darling, come help your mother will you?”

Despite only being a few years older than he was, his long-time neighbor Deirdre insisted on befriending his mother and calling him things like darling and young man. “Sure” he crossed into the living room, once again treading on spotless bone-white carpet, gently taking the bowl from the table to swipe the small amount of dust from the table onto the floor. 

“Ethan!” His mother gasped and rushed to his side, grabbing the bowl from him and setting it back down. “You can’t just sweep it onto the floor like that! I’ve told you numerous times, get a dust pan or a proper cloth first.” She knelt down on blushing knees and attempted to collect the offending dust from her carpet. “Deirdre, get me a vacuum cleaner!” 

The younger girl rolled her bright blue eyes above a small smile and turned towards Ethan, knowing full well that the two of them would probably have to bleach the carpet if the vacuum didn’t work to his mother’s content. “Right away” she huffed as she sauntered off, blonde curls bobbing slightly above thin shoulders. 

The boy knelt down beside his mother and pretended to pick up the specs until the other girl returned and his mother began to vigorously vacuum the area. While Deirdre attempted to dust the table properly, Ethan to glanced halfheartedly at the television. A story he couldn’t hear over the roar of the vacuum played across the screen – it looked to him like some sort of horror program, some man depicted as an undead murderer raced across the screen, tackling another person and gnawing on his arm. Ethan was about to look away until he noticed the symbol of the local news channel in the corner and a warning strip that read “Red Alert” running across the bottom. He squinted at the large flat screen to see if he had seen correctly, and in a split second, he reached for the remote and turned the volume up as he leaned into the television. 

Reports say the man ate the other man’s skin clear off his body; here you can see the security camera footage of the actual attack. 

“Oh my God…” He stood back, throwing pale fingers to his lips in shock.

At this his mother blanched, cutting off the loud machine to scold her son. “You know not to take the lord’s name in vain, it’s not proper to-” The woman paused, glancing at the television that her son was transfixed with, only to be hypnotized as well. 

As of now police aren’t sure what caused the attack; the department of health has claimed to find some sort of bath salt in the attacker’s bloodstream but fears this case might have a connection to another one last week involving a mutated string of the swine flu…

“Oh my God.” She took a step towards the television, gripping her son’s shoulders as she stared. 

Deirdre also stood frozen and glued to the broadcast, all three of their minds running at a million miles per hour but not producing anything coherent. Even when Ethan’s father got home and greeted his family jovially from the adjoining kitchen, the three in the living room didn't bat an eye at his entrance. 

Finally, as the broadcaster warned watchers to be wary of suspicious activity and remain calm, everything will be alright, they said, the mother spun towards her husband, blonde eyebrows creased with worry and equally bright teeth occupied with a single French-manicured nail. 

“What is it, my dear?” The patriarch cooed, heart palpitating within his large chest as he tried to hold a calm façade. 

Both Deirdre and Ethan followed the mother as she walked up to her husband and put both hands on his arms – something she did in the most hopeless of times. “We have to get out of here…” 

The father’s bright eyes welled with concern and he turned to his levelheaded son for answers. “Ethan? What is this?” 

“The news. It looks like there’s a virus going around that makes people...eat flesh.” When his father’s eyebrows scrunched in dismissive disbelief, he added, “but they’re saying that it might just be a new drug as well. They said not to worry - " He saw his mother’s shoulders shake from the corner of his eye. “But you can’t be too sure…”

His father took it all in, looking from his nearly disheveled wife to the television, which was now on commercial, then back to his son. “Come now, all of you. Don’t be ridiculous. Let’s just focus on preparations for the party, yes? Let’s see some smiles.” With that, the man brought a thick hand to his wife’s small back and gave it a little pat before moving to the other room. The other three were left alone in the room, the youngest woman and man sharing a sideways glance before Ethan’s mother heaved heavily and went back to vacuuming that one spot, over and over, in a fit of inconspicuous insanity. It was a sign of dismissal, and at that point, there was nothing more Ethan could do or say to his mother to get her to stop setting up for the party and prepare for the beginning of the end.


	2. Collision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something goes horribly wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for gross, slightly cannibalistic stuff! AND ALSO SORRY THERE ARE MORE OCS IN THIS CHAPTER T_T I want to say something about them but then again I kind of don't because then it'll spoil the entire story. SO I won't. Just...bare with me for this chapter ^_^' Thank you for reading, I'm so shy about this! Also: I don't think the chapter titles are showing up, so just in case - the first chapter is titled, "The Beginning Of The End" and this one is called "Collision". :D Thank you again for giving this little "apocafic" a chance! ^_^

Phase 2:

Countless strangers crowded the large hallways, the patio, the living room. Ethan recognized a few lavishly dressed persons from the neighborhood but realized that the others were just strangers who might be persuaded to vote for his father. 

“Hello darling,” One diamond encrusted woman drawled behind him, her leathery skin shimmering in the evening light. “What a nice party your mother has put on for us, don’t you think?” She grinned, revealing two rows of bleached teeth between collagen-enhanced lips.

“Yes Mrs. Rhyer, it is. We’re so glad you could make it tonight.” Two elaborately decorated teenagers emerged from behind the old woman; the girl smiled shyly at Ethan but the boy looked as if he would collapse at any second. 

“You remember my grandchildren, dear Ana, and Roy. Poor thing has been feeling rather ill lately - just look at him.” 

And Ethan did, noting the teen’s distant eyes and twitching lip. 

“Anyways, I’m off to go find your mother. You children play nice now!” The elderly woman waltzed off to the patio, where dozens of crystal lanterns illuminated the elegant party under the moonlight. 

A barely perceptible tug tickled his arm when Ana tugged on his sleeve. Glancing down, he watched her grin back before she bashfully turned her gaze to the kitchen floor. 

“I hear you’ve been studying politics just like your father these days…” she began, a light shade of pink coming to her milky white cheeks. “Grandmother said you might need someone to accompany you to parties in the near future so I thought…” again she shied away, coloring deeper before continuing.

As she spoke the words faded in Ethan’s ears, his eyes drifting towards her brother. The girl tapped him gracefully on the forearm to get his attention and went on to speak of politics and parties. But there was something that his parents and every other person in the room didn't know - something that would set all of their plans for his future to the wind. During all of his supposed speech classes at university, he found a way to sneak off to the adjoining building and train for the military. Running for office and attending functions with a girl were at the bottom of his list. It was that training that made a red flag go off in his mind as he stared at Roy. Nevertheless, he smiled sweetly at her and kept his secret at bay. “I’ll be sure to call you if I am ever invited to a party like that.” Ana beamed and the party continued. 

About an hour later, while Ethan and Ana made small talk on the couch, the girl’s grandmother rushed into the room, shouting and hollering as if she were on fire. “Help! Somebody help my grandson!”   
The party immediately fell silent, guests ceasing to talk and instead looking with worry upon the old woman, classical music still drifting softly from the speakers. Everyone wondered what could have happened to the boy until said teenager stumbled in from the deck vomiting scarlet rivers onto the waxed wood floor. He clutched his stomach and screamed as tears streamed from icy blue eyes. Guests erupted into a panic, some blatantly running from the house while others rushed to help. Helpless cries curdled in Ana's throat as she watched her brother suffer, the veins in her neck swelling slightly with fear when Ethan leapt up from the couch. Pushing past his horrified parents he lay the convulsing boy on the floor. 

Military training proved useful as Ethan remembered how to deal with the boy’s seizure before the paramedics stormed into the house. He stepped aside, holding Ana as his father held his mother. 

“Clear the room immediately! Everyone out!” One of the men barked as he tore the kid’s shirt open and shocked him back from death, making the pale skin turn an irritated shade of red as he struggled. The remaining guests glanced towards Ethan’s stone-faced father, nodding once before disappearing into their cars and driving away. Only Roy's relatives and Deirdre remained with Ethan’s family as they make their way to the dining room. 

Ethan tried his best to keep the girl’s horror subdued, but the grandmother’s hysterical sobbing and the shouts of “Clear!” from the other room did nothing to help him. 

“What could have happened to him?” The old woman wailed, and Ethan’s mother gazed off into space, harboring thoughts she knew her husband wouldn’t condone. 

They all stood in silence then, listening for signs of recovery in the kitchen, but the next few minutes brought false hope. 

All the chaos came to a screeching halt, no labored gurgling from the boy, no electricity running through the medical instruments, and no urgent orders from the paramedics – only soft, gentle breath. In, out. In, out. Everyone in the dining room distinguished the boy just breathing calmly, as if nothing happened. Ana lifted her damp face from Ethan’s shoulder, turning to reunite with her brother until a piercing scream sounded from the kitchen. 

It was a bloodcurdling shriek, tangled with a disheartening crack and the sound of liquid splashing against the linoleum floor. She went rigid in the male’s arms, her eyes as wide as everyone else’s as they heard one paramedic ordering the other to run. Heavy footsteps slapped from the kitchen floor to the front room, and then they were gone and everything was silent. Each person looked silently at another, save the mother, who was still stuck staring quietly into space. At last, it was Ethan who passed Ana to her grandmother and stepped towards the kitchen.   
Before he saw anything, he heard a sound akin to a dog tearing through a thick steak - snarls and snaps sent subtle chills up his spine. Step by careful step, he eased around the counter where the boy was laid out. He finally let his eyes drift down and froze in mid-step. Across his kitchen floor, the same floor on which his parent’s guests danced only moments ago, Roy crouched over the paramedic, the older man’s limp arm crunching between his bloodstained teeth. 

The horrified gasp that slipped out was inevitable. Roy’s head snapped up from the shredded corpse and clouded eyes locked onto Ethan's. He could see the thick blood dripping from scarlet lips, the carnivorous gleam in those glowing orbs. He tried to retreat, stepping back only to stumble and fall onto his back. Roy – or whatever Roy had become – dropped the bleeding flesh and rose, coming towards Ethan as he whipped his head towards his mother and father, telling them to get out. 

“What’s happening?” His father demanded, pulling his wife into the kitchen to witness Roy’s hunched form crawling on cracking limbs towards his fallen son. Without a second thought, he rushed into the kitchen, grabbed Ethan from the floor and shooed the others outside. 

Droplets of blood splattered across the room as Ethan gained his balance; he gripped both Deirdre and Roy’s grandmother and ran outside into the darkness after his parents. 

Ana began to run after them, but turned back to look at her brother, tears in her eyes and hands clutched to her heart. In a split second she was back inside. 

“Go back for my granddaughter!” 

“No Ethan! Leave her!” His father yelled, running around the house to the bomb shelter with the others. 

The boy looked from his father back towards the front door and hurried inside, only to see Ana’s delicate blonde head being ripped from her tiny body as Roy’s teeth ripped into her neck. He turned and shut his eyes, putting a hand against his mouth to stifle a whimper, but followed after his father immediately after. 

“Down here!” He heard his father’s voice echoing through the hot spring night and followed it to the underground hideout, the one his father insisted on while every other neighbor laughed, where the rest of the group waited.

After crawling down into the hole, he had to face the old woman. Features contorted with worry, her breath hitched at Ethan’s sympathetic expression. “…No…” She breathed, but the boy only wrapped her frail, ringed hand in his own. She broke down. 

“I’m sorry Edna,” His father said, and that was all he could manage before grabbing an old radio from the wall and switching it on, trying to get what he could from the bad connection. 

…Infested with some sort of Zombie virus…spread to almost one sixth of the American population…taking drastic precautionary measures to eliminate…can’t tell the difference between the infected and the healthy…seems to be no cure –

It cut off after that, the reporter’s voice fizzling to a soft humming static. 

“Ethan…” His mother cried softly, gripping onto his shoulder as her husband palmed her hair. 

As the family stood hopeless, Deirdre scoured the shelter’s shelves for something edible, but found only plastic spoons and a maggot-encrusted apple pie. “We need to go back out there.” 

“Are you insane?” Edna’s voice cracked, starting to crumble under the weight of her grief. “We’ll all die.”

Everyone looked to the patriarch, the politician and supposed able-leader, asking silently for guidance in their time of need. 

“She’s right; we’ll survive no longer in here without food or water than we would out there. It will be an effort on everyone’s part, but we need to go back into the house and - "

At that moment, Edna broke into hysterics, hyperventilating at the thought of laying eyes on her dead grandchildren. “I-I will not go back into that house!” She gasped, eyes bulging against her skull and chest heaving uncontrollably, images of corpses and children flashing in her mind. "NO! I Won't! You can't make me! You can't make me do it!"

As Ethan’s family watched on, Deirdre flew to the grandmother’s side. “You need to calm down!” The young blonde gripped the old woman by both shoulders, squeezing into the flesh as the other’s grey eyes rolled back into her head. “She’s having a heart attack!” 

Ethan began to repeat what he had learned in training, but it was too late. She sputtered and sobbed only once more before lying limp within his neighbor's grasp, cold grey irises still showing dully between reddened lids. 

Shock overtook Deirdre as the old lady slipped from her hands and slumped against the cold walls. “W-we have to go back into the house for supplies before we all end up dead.”

“But what about Roy?” His mother worried, shielding her eyes from the sight of Edna’s body. 

Her husband, however, had his eyes locked on the old woman, his thoughts revolving around desperate survival tactics. 

The military training had been enough to help Ethan figure out what his father was contemplating, and after catching the older man’s eye, he nodded in agreement. If it had been any other time, if his family wasn’t at the brink of extinction, such a gruesome and horrifying thought wouldn’t have ever crossed his mind. But such was not the case. 

“Mom…” He started, and even his mother knew from that tone what the two males were planning. She buried her paling face deeper into her husband’s chest after nodding in agreement. 

To distract Roy, they would have to use Edna’s corpse as bait. 

“Grab her arms Ethan. I'll get the feet." The two males maneuvered around Deirdre and her horrified expression to pick up the body and started pushing it up to the surface. "We'll call when it's safe to come up," he paused to push each leg towards his son above ground. "Don't open the hatch until I say it's safe."

And then the hatch closed once more, leaving both women shrouded in darkness and uncertainty.

Bright eyes were cast in shadows as Ethan's father looked past him at the infected Roy, who was licking at the paramedic's bones. He gestured towards the porch, signaling where to put her. With a trembling exhale, they shuffled to the porch and dropped the woman with a resounding thud, both shivering as Roy ignored them to attack his grandmother's body as if it were a turkey dinner instead of the body of the one who raised him.

While Roy tore through a sinewy calf, stretching his enlarged mouth against the tough skin, the other males lunged towards the house. A shot rang out across the lawn and they froze, watching Roy crumble into himself as blood spurted from his head. The creature screeched and trembled, collapsing with an outstretched hand just a few inches from Ethan's left foot. At the same time that their neighbor hurried from his house, shotgun in hand, Deirdre and Ethan's mother sprung from the shelter, too concerned for the others' safety to remain inside.

"You gentlemen alright...?" Approaching Ethan's yard cautiously, the man repositioned his spectacles and slowly raised the gun with a shaking arm.

"We're fine." The father didn't miss Deirdre's younger brother in the window, hastily smashing buttons on the phone before closing the blinds as he caught his eye.

His neighbor glanced across the illuminated yard from both males to his daughter. A look of genuine distaste clouded his features, his hardening pale eyes shifting from the zombie's body to his daughter, then back again.

"Dad!" The young blonde cried in relief and began running towards her home - until her father aimed the gun at her head.

"Now Deirdre..." he warned, inching closer as Ethan's father shielded his family, his wife murmuring the neighbor's name in disbelief. "I don't know if you heard what they've said on the news, but you never know who's infected until they kill your whole family. And with your brother's leukemia I just can't risk you coming back over here after being exposed to that zombie."

Ethan lunged at the neighbor to wrestle the gun away at the same time that three policemen surrounded everyone else.

"Are these the infected persons?" One asked, his face invisible behind a tinted motorcycle helmet.

With a rough nod, the neighbor dropped his gun and turned to his daughter. "It's for the best." Her screams beat around in everyone's ears as Ethan struggled vainly to catch his mother's wildly grasping hand.

"Run, Ethan! Get away from here!" His father's pleas were hoarse as he flailed, fighting off an officer that was attempting to capture his son.

"I'll find you!" Sweat beaded at his neck as he voiced his promise and stumbled reluctantly away.

Between sounds of protest, he heard the police officer grab Deirdre's father too, saying, "You can't be too sure which ones are infected - grab everyone" before Ethan was too far away to distinguish anything.

Further down the road, signs of apocalypse defiled the wealthy neighborhood. Abandoned houses sat in shadows, their smashed French doors swinging open on busted hinges. Spilled blood bathed the empty streets, accentuated by flickering street lamps. Few people remained on the road, and those that remained cried for lost family members or screamed for help that wouldn't come. Ethan ambled farther up the street, thinking about risking an arrest by going to the police station to rescue his family.

In mid step, he halted. Sirens wailed through the air, a specific and disparaging cry that only military personnel would recognize. The distress call for a bomb.

"Shit" Ethan shook his head as he ran back to his house, back to the place that held remnants of his family - back to the only place he would be able to survive a bomb. "Everybody who wants to live come with me! They're about to bomb everything!" Only a small amount of people bothered to face him, faces puffy with tears, but they turned back to previous tasks without giving the shouting boy a second thought.

So Ethan ran, lungs expanding and contracting ceaselessly until he returned to his back yard; he drew an anxious breath when he found that neither the police nor his family remained there. A flash of light streaked through the air, slicing through the hazy blackness of night to shine brighter than morning. He scrambled then, struggling to open the hatch as expletives slipped as easily from his lips as his sweaty fingers slipped over the entrance. With one final pull to the hatch, the entrance hissed open and he dove in, not even bothering to use the ladder before he collided roughly with the ground after yanking the hatch closed.

He waited, eyes wide, chest heaving, body numb from the impact against the concrete ground and ears straining to hear his entire world collapse above him.

Slowly everything began to rattle. First the empty jars on the shelves, then the shelves themselves; the floor beneath his body and the cold walls trembled with the force of the impending impact. The obvious safety of the bomb shelter provided no comfort. His family was still out there - somewhere. He could only hope that the cops knew about the bomb so they could hold the captured civilians in a bomb-safe environment. Time soon stripped him of his thoughts, the bomb finally smashing against the surface of Ethan's beloved earth and bouncing his skull against the ground. As his forehead collided with the concrete again, his mind ran on his mother's pale and unreachable hand before an enveloping darkness claimed his consciousness.


	3. Distortion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ethan is utterly alone. For now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Bless you if you've gotten this far. XD Oh! The change in tense happens because this is now...or what would be "now" in the story. My edits aren't going through and apparently Ao3 doesn't allow italics...? (Idk I'm still new lol) so just pretend that the things 'in these kinds of quotes' are in italics. Also...I really tried with the amount of miles and hours, trying to make them correspond realistically to how long it would take for a person to walk...and by George it's difficult. So please, don't take what I wrote about how many miles per hour it was to heart. ^_^; I also realize that "raspily" is not a word. Well, it is now. Thank you again! :D

Phase 3:

A sputtering cough erupts from once dormant lungs, pulling Ethan from the depths of his subconscious mind. Except, the name Ethan means nothing to him. He can't quite remember what his name is. All the boy remembers is the feel of his face against a stiff stony floor.

He blinks slowly, half-opened eyes trying to distinguish a defining feature in the darkness. Pale bangs cluttered with yellow highlights fall over his face as he rises on quivering legs. It takes him a few moments to shake the sleep from his aching limbs, but eventually, he stands straight. He remembers the bomb. It would make sense, he thinks, considering his current location within a bomb shelter.

The teen stands up and brushes himself off before climbing the ladder and opening the hatch, unprepared to see the reality of whatever devastation lies on the other side.

Everything is gone.

Light assaults his eyes and sears his irises; all around him lies a barren stretch of land as yellow and dead as the belly of a skinned chicken. He doesn’t know where he is – images of his old neighborhood come flooding back to him with an unearthly intensity but none of that matters. Mental maps of streets and buildings won’t do him any good. A few scraps of metal are still clinging to the earth, remnants of homes that used to populate the now ruined streets. Shadows are etched into the desolate ground, permanent reminders of life that once existed. The boy stares ahead of him into the desert-like expanse, seeing the thin metal poles that used to belong to his mansion. 'Oh right…my family.' His stomach turns and images of the people he cares about pound against his skull. The massive house that his father worked so hard for is gone. All the material possessions, all the money and the jewels that his mother flaunted, all of them are gone, reduced to a blackened shadow like the rest of his world. It’s all too much and he slips back into the shelter, back to the darkness where he can forget – where he can pretend that nothing ever happened.

Once his eyes readjust to the small enclosure, he searches the place for the first time, finding the same inedible pies and glass jars Deirdre found on the first night. He remembers what caused the family’s separation in the first place as his stomach protests against the lack of food, and jars crash against the hard floor when he swipes them from shelves. Through his hunger-fueled desperation, each and every useless jar is reduced to a pile of glittering glass upon the floor. The dim light catches something pressed against the back of the shelf, and he reaches out to retrieve a long black shotgun. Using it against the infected won't be a problem, he reasons, but the image of his friends and family crouched over a pile of corpses sends shivers through his body. Using it against infected relatives, though, is something entirely different.

Bullets are in the box next to the gun – just enough to get by for about three days. There’s nothing else he can use in the shelter so he leaves, climbing the ladder with some difficulty and opening the hatch for what he believes will be the last time. One last look around the rectangle of singed land that used to be his family’s estate and he’s gone too, leaving behind - with the memory of his name – every fear preventing him from rescuing his family.

Fifteen minutes passes. Then, an hour. At two hours, the young man feels as if he hasn’t walked far from the backyard bomb shelter. His entire city is demolished, a placeless desert left in the bomb’s wake. Time wears on him and the gun gets heavy, weighing against his blistering shoulders and slapping into his dry throat once in a while. He realizes that he needs to leave the state if he should have any hope of finding food, refuge, or any sign of human life. So, he walks on.

It’s almost dark by the time he sees a road sign claiming that the next town is 34 miles over. Heavy clouds threaten to obscure the moon, the only light left. Unlike a desert, nothing howls in the night, nothing slimy and unknown wriggles past his feet, and the male almost wishes something would make a noise besides his boots crunching incessantly against the crisp ground. He wants to keep going, to get to the other town quickly, but his body feels heavier than its ever been and his blonde strands cling to his face and neck, making his skin insufferably itchy. “I guess I could rest for a while…” his voice escapes raspily from the confines of his arid throat. Although he realizes no one is there to hear, he speaks aloud anyways. It's comforting to him to hear a human voice, even if that voice is his own.

A few more steps lead him to a sideways metal pipe, big enough for him to fit into alongside his gun. It’s not a bed, not even a blanket, but it will hold him for tonight. Exhausted, the boy crawls into the makeshift shelter and closes his eyes. Wind ruffles his hair and he shifts in his sleep, bringing his hand to rest over his eyes. The heated gush of wind hits his face harder, bringing with it a smell so foul and rancid that his eyes snap open. Situated an inch from his face, two glittering white orbs peer into him from a bloody and mutilated face.

He’s unsure if he should inch slowly away or try to startle it. Quivering fingers slip around the shotgun and he’s careful not to avert his own light eyes from the clouded pupils before finally grasping the trigger, slicing his fingers on the rusted metal in the process. In one swift movement, the boy sits and heaves the gun onto his shoulders, shooting the creature point-blank before breaking into a sloppy run towards the edge of town.

The rancid smell of deteriorating flesh stings his nose and his eyes water as he senses more zombies on his tail. “Fuck!” Whipping around, he finds three more staggering quickly towards him, faces unrecognizable and bodies melted down to meaty bone. “Stay away from me!” It’s useless, he knows, demanding something of the undead. Instead of trying to negotiate more, he raises his gun and knowingly spends five more bullets, missing the third zombie altogether. Fear grips his throat, gradually squeezing harder until he can’t breathe at all. The steaming pile of flesh has tackled him to the ground and he knows he’s as good as dead. In a last ditch effort, he smashes the gun against the thing’s head until the neck rolls away from the body and the entire creature lies limp next to him.

He’s completely aware of the danger he’s putting himself in as he lies there, panting heavily and squinting into the sky, gun in hand. But unlike these things, these undead assailants, he’s only human. Not even military training prepared him for such a tiring task of survival. His eyes become heavy again and they begin to slip closed as he relies on the hope that he’s killed enough to be safe for at least another hour. Yet, his body only allows him a few minutes before he wakes with paranoia. Reluctantly the young man stands, dragging the tip of the gun in the dust as he continues on into the muggy night.

Eventually he reaches the well-awaited edge of town, dropping to his knees as the sun rises behind him to shroud him in safety. The number of attacks drastically decreases during the daytime, he notices.

It’s only been 13 hours without food or drink, but to his human body it’s an eternity. 'It wouldn’t hurt to rest for five minutes…' the black circles beneath his eyes begin to feel like actual baggage. His sticky skin meets the warm and dusty ground, and this time, he can feel a sparse gathering of grass brushing up against his left arm. The first sign of vegetation since the bomb comforts him, and within seconds he’s asleep again.

Off in the distance of his dream, he can hear another human’s voice. For some reason, he can’t classify the voice as one that belongs to a member of his family – the rough vocals don’t sound like anything he’s ever heard before. Somewhat dark and velvety, definitely male, and…struggling? With that realization, the boy’s eyes snap open, knowing that the voice wasn’t a fabrication of his dreams. Another human being is alive and in close proximity. But, he knows if he doesn’t get up and help it won’t be long before that human is dead as well.

With renewed strength, he jumps up and runs towards the sounds of fighting that echo from behind a broken-down brick building. “Hello? I’m coming to help you! Don’t worry!” He yells, heart pounding in his chest with excitement and fear simultaneously . Then, he sees them; a one armed zombie, frothing at the mouth and bent over another figure. Before he can shoot, both beings stop moving. Chills envelop his heated body as he fears the worst, suddenly feeling alone again. Still, he steps cautiously towards the zombie and the human, prepared to shoot the dying person out of his misery. He leans down, almost ready to push the zombie from the corpse with the tip of his gun, but stops. As soon as his gun comes in contact with the undead being, it launches up at him.

Screaming, he pushes down on the trigger, only to find that two things are true: he’s out of bullets, and he's safe. Instead of being attacked as expected, the zombie lands facedown at his feet. “What the…” the words catch in his mouth as he brings his eyes to rest where the dead human should have been. Instead, he sees something unexpected.

Before him, a leather-clad man gets to his feet, sweeping a lock of thick black hair from his dark, scowling face.

He can’t bring himself to say hello. The relief is welling up within him and all he can do is stare as his jaw goes slack.

“Well,” The stranger starts, bringing a bloody knife into view. “What’s wrong with you? You one of the infected ones?”

The young male gains his voice back after a moment. “N-no! Of course not…”

“Okay then,” the other begins to take a step towards him and he watches helplessly as the stranger grabs his neck and slams his back against the crumbling brick wall. “They say the infected ones can’t remember their own names. My name’s Cain. So what’s yours, princess?”

'Cain…' he thinks, but his name isn’t coming back to him. Maybe he is infected…or maybe it was just the fall in the bomb shelter that made him forget; he’s not sure which. Trying not to die by the hands of the first human he’s come across in too long, he spits out the first name that comes to mind, just as the bloody knife presses against his jugular. “Abel! Abel, my name is Abel!” The rough hand then releases his neck and he drops to the ground, coughing around the lie and rubbing the spot where the knife almost cut his existence short. All those nights of his mother shoving The Bible down his throat just saved his life.

Cain scoffs at the irony, brushing his hands together to rid his palms of invisible dirt. “So Abel. You look human enough.” He leans down towards the blonde’s widened eyes, his cracked, pale, and smirking lips a stark contrast from his tanned skin. “What do you say we start a team?”


	4. Intermission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Abel gets a little sleep. And a little bit of something else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Waaah! Hello everyone! ^_^ This is a short one because it's the last one I wrote out so far heh! Just think of it as a little intermission before the storm, yea? More is in the works though!
> 
> Warning for Cain's anatomy! (shh it's not that bad I'm just a little person, so shyyyy!~ Don't tell my mother! Heehee) Ack I hope you like it!
> 
> Pssst! Everything is Hamletmachine's! :D

Phase 4:

Cain’s face is almost touching his and Abel can’t find it in himself to say no. Not with eyes like solid steel staring him down. Not with those hands, stronger and wider than his, pressing into his skin and holding him down. No, he can't refuse. Not when Cain is the one offering. He can’t deny the opportunity to team up with a skilled fighter; he can’t deny much of anything with those dark eyes burning into his. “Y-yes. Let’s team up.”

Abel waits for the other to pull away but he doesn’t, squinting and widening his grin instead. “What the Hell’s your deal? Got a stuttering problem? Or are you just stupid?”

Rage consumes Abel’s face, rearing its head in the form of a deep red flush. “No! That’s not it at all, I’m just tired!” he defends, eyes falling as his mind runs on sleep.

“Here, I’ll tell you what. I’ll cover your ass so you can get a decent sleep,” the black haired male states, finally pulling smugly away at his companion’s hopeful expression. “But you have to do something for me after.”

He agrees with a tight nod, knowing he’d do anything for an hour or two of safe sleep. “Thank you…I’ll repay you however I can.” And with that, the blonde places his trust – and his life – into the hands of this dark stranger, lowering his head onto the grass-dusted ground and shutting his eyes without a hint of fear.

The warmth beneath his cheek begins to fade, a subtle breeze wrapping around his thin shoulders. With a bit of earth still clinging to his face from sleeping on the ground the boy wakes, and Abel isn’t surprised to find Cain gone. Though, the fact that it’s already sunset does strike him hard. Cain kept his promise.

Each disk in his spine crackles lazily, anxiety eluding him altogether as he takes his time to stretch. But then, he hears it. Sounds of struggle pound in his ears again, making his blood thicken and rush with each strained breath he hears.

Cain's in trouble.

Abel wastes no time slapping the gun to his shoulders and skidding around the deteriorating wall of bricks - the breaths are deeper, more labored and laced with mindless moans. Cain's been crushed, incapacitated, broken, bitten and left bleeding...dead; Abel's mind runs wild with worry as he runs blindly towards his companion - his only hope.

Finally he's close enough to hear the rush of air flowing through Cain's nostrils and, without a spare second to let fear infiltrate his rescue, the boy whips around the wall and aims the gun straight at the trembling figure, prepared to shoot the shit right out of zombie - but Abel doesn't see a zombie.

It's just Cain, eyes clamped shut, lips open wide, angled jaw set and sun-tanned hand wrapped tenaciously around his thick throbbing cock.

A second of silence and staring, Abel's untrained eyes sending sensory messages to his brain to /go the fuck away/ but getting lost in the mind-numbing image in his irises. Then, as Abel's body goes completely numb, the heavy gun slides from his slick shoulders and slams into the fruitless ground. Instantaneously, Abel's mind ignights, concentrating on the ground, the dust, /anything/ but that extremely rigid appendage as he catapults forward to grab the gun with hands as flushed as his face. His head is buried beneath his bushy hair in shame but he can just feel the repulsion radiating from the other male, hotter and much more lethal than the bomb had been. "I-I...I'm sorry I thought...I thought you were in danger, I came to -"

Laughter. He hears /laughter/. Not disgusted shouts, not rage-filled yells - not even a "you sick bastard" to deepen his shame, no. Only laughter.

Abel looks up shyly, face still half-hidden between loose strands and redder than the scarlet letter. He meets Cain's dark eyes, careful not to concern himself with the rest of the other male's body, and notes the knitted black brows and the glistening canines.

"Thirsty?" Cain asks, and Abel begins to choke.

The blonde stumbles backwards, throat extraordinarily arid and constricting at the implications - he slams a fist against his small chest as the other's smirk vanishes.

"Fuck," with a scowl, Cain yanks his jeans up and hurries to the shorter guy's side to pat his back roughly. "I was just JOKING. Come on now, breathe." And eventually, Abel does, sinking all the way down to the ground in Cain's grasp until both of them are sitting, Cain awkwardly rubbing Abel's back with insecurity claiming his face. "There...alright now?"

Abel nods and keeps both eyes trained on his feet, a left-over cough leaving his lips.

"Good." Blue highlights lift out of his face as the evening wind blows over the desolate land. "Now get the fuck off of my lap." He says it harshly, pushing Abel half-heatedly away as he stands to place a hand on his own lower back and lean into it. "We have to get going if you don't want to get eaten." Those dark eyes are suddenly serious as they glower down at Abel over a large extended hand.

Reluctantly, he takes it, moving to stand and inconspicuously brush his palm on his pants when Cain isn't looking. "Get going where?" Abel asks, just as the last of the sun's rays disappear into darkness.

The first footsteps of the walking dead shift the sandy sediment about a half mile off. Cain's face turns to stone as he lifts the gun from Abel's shoulders, cocking it and holding it ready.

Abel shudders, listening for the other's voice to overpower the sound of inevitable death, but the footsteps come closer, too loud now to be covered by simple human speech. Just as the first one comes in to full view, Cain steadies his weapon and aims for the drooping decayed head.

"Anywhere but here."


	5. Composition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Abel uses unorthodox methods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the spirit of January this has turned into a comedy. Not really. But wouldn't that be fun? ^_^
> 
> Warning because gross body parts and molding cheese. Also Cain's potty mouth.
> 
> ONE MORE THING: I know Abel's eyes are dark, but for some reason I just put blue in the first chapter because I was thinking, navigator! (I wrote this like 2,000 years ago) so I guess I'm just gonna leave it. I apologize for my historical inaccuracy! Maybe he got contacts! I have blue contacts :) ok imunna shut up now.

Phase 5.

"Where are we?" Brittle bones of the undead crunch beneath Abel's shoes as he trips over an abandoned torso. The scorched ground is obscured by several feet of intestine, a product of the recent attack. He reloads the last of Cain's extra bullets into his gun and accidentally steps on a bloody finger.

"If I knew I'd tell you princess." Slinging his weapon onto his shoulder, Cain pretends to miss the other's pretty blue eyes as they roll under the lids. His boots brush the crisp earth as a cloud of dust drifts up to discolor his jeans, and Abel's stomach reacts angrily. It's as empty as the ground he treads on and his lips, as dry as the dust. Those same lips part at Cain's words, brows coming together to emphasize an unspoken frustration. Again Abel's stubborn stomach rumbles, forceful enough to stop him from speaking.

When Abel starts groaning Cain can't take it anymore. "Will you shut up if I give you these?" The man shoves a hand into his tight pocket, watching his companion's expression perk up and then deflate after he unwraps a napkin filled with three pitiful cubes of cheese.

Is that...mold? "Cain...I - "

"Shut up and take them."

And Abel does, skeptically popping one past his lips and chewing slowly. "Oh! This is actually...pretty good."

As the second cube slides into his mouth, Cain watches him. Watches Abel's cheeks color with satisfaction, watches the way his tongue slides over plush pink lips between chews, watches Abel gain so much happiness from his food. Food that could have been in his belly. But he stops himself, just as he's about to reach down the other's esophagus and retrieve the cubes, because Abel looks so...clueless he decides - so innocently stupid and happy that he can't bring himself to hurt him over a few moldy cheeses. Instead, while Abel finds the last piece to be somewhat stickier than the others, Cain changes direction and heads to the right. "We have to get some real food."

Abel can't agree more; his eyes light up and he nods, giving a hum of agreement as he struggles to swallow the rest of the melting cheese. "Mmf."

It makes Cain scowl. Turning abruptly away he curses himself, sneaking a tenebrous look at Abel from the corner of his eye. The kid's kinda cute, and it's been a long time since he's had another human to help him lose a bit of water weight. Before he can claim his favor for letting the blonde sleep earlier, Abel's gut groans for more food.

"We should hurry up. Before it gets dark. I bet you're hungry too." A shy smile sends Cain stomping quickly ahead, trying to outrun his less than wholesome thoughts. "There should be a convenience store somewhere around here..." Abel puts a finger to his chin, turning in circles as he tries to access a mental map. Another swivel and he comes face to face with the barrel of Cain's gun.

"Don't move."

The shot rings out a second later, barely missing the skin of his pale ear. Behind him a zombie crumbles to the ground only to reveal an approaching armada. "Cain! They're everywhere!"

From every imaginable angle they come, dragging decaying legs and letting heads loll loosely, the disheveled nature of their advance acting as a distraction. But neither human is fooled.

"We're gonna split up. You get those slow ones over there and I'll take care of droopy." The persistent zombie in question stalks towards Cain with a blade in hand, face drooping to one side to reveal the bloodied bone beneath. Abel agrees, knowing Cain can take care of himself.

They suddenly surround him, separating him from Cain with a wall of decaying flesh and frightening moans. He gets one right between the eyes before he runs out of bullets for the second time. "Uh - Cain!" Several arms grab for him as he smashes two rotting heads against each other.

"Here, take it! Stop being so useless!" Spit splashes onto Cain's cheek as brown teeth gnash at his nose, and he shoots the thing between its flaring nostrils before tossing the gun in Abel's direction.

Ducking between a zombie's spread legs, Abel grabs for the gun but grasps a handful of hot air as the weapon clatters to the ground. Horror shoots across his face when Cain's gun splits in half.

"What the fuck Abel?!" Out of intense frustration the younger male kicks himself free from the quickly closing circle of undead, grabbing another zombie's leg and ripping it clear off the body. Still they come closer, closing in on Cain like a rainstorm over a town. Pissed beyond measure he kicks at them again, but each one only reaches out to hold him down, squeezing until the bones of each dissolving hand crack. Pain does nothing to restrain them. "Do something!"

The guns remain useless and there's no time to push through the hoard. Cain's form is being swallowed by the sea of creatures as Abel searches vainly for a long-range weapon. Desperate, he thinks of something that might help, if only for a moment. "Hang on Cain!" With determination contorting his features, the boy takes one gun in each had and smacks them together. For a while, nothing changes. Cain yells and Abel smacks harder, recreating the rhythm to his favorite song. Then, as the other human prepares to feel the sting of squalid teeth tearing through his skin, the zombies turn towards Abel. Surprise and confusion war for the blonde's attention and he stops, waiting to see if his careless clacking had distracted them. Instantaneously they return to ravage his friend.

Both men look at each other, eyes widening as Cain's shirt is grabbed once more. "Keep going!" He hears Cain snap, and he does, tapping out chorus and cadence alike. The zombies work themselves into a casual sway, the sea calming to produce gentle waves. "Holy shit." Cain frees himself, and as the monstrosities shift unnaturally from left to right, he mercilessly mows them down two at a time. The others don't seem to notice as their brethren fall beside them, too busy moving like a brainwashed church choir to Abel's brisk beat to care. Click click click Cain breaks a neck. Click click click An arm flies through the air. Click click click He's almost there; a little over half of the undead army lies motionless at his feet. He can see a way out of the crowd, just a few more to kill. Then, the beat stops.

Abel stares down dumbfounded at the shattered gun.

He must've slapped too hard. Fucking useless. Cain growls again, fighting to restrain the angry zombies. The creatures are still rocking, but the movements are becoming vigorous and violent as time slips away. "Fuck this Abel! Run, go that way," he uses a severed hand to point to the right. "Go, before they start doing Thriller on us." One last rage-filled shove sends the zombies twisting out of his way as Cain runs to Abel, grabbing the broken guns and Abel's hand before running to the East.

\------

"Look princess! Condoms!"

Abel's face flares with faux disappointment, failing to make him look upset as his teeth close instinctually around his plump bottom lip. Shaking his head softly to erase the flush he points to the aisle of browning vegetables. "Cain we're supposed to be looking for food. See if you can find any fresh fruits."

When the other doesn't move, muttering, "Wonder if they have any of those magnum ones..." instead, Abel has to slap a hand against his face to keep his eyes from leaving his skull. Words spill out of his mouth like water from a broken faucet. "B-BUT CAIN! Fruits are good for the bones and carrots help your fingernails grow and...! I mean...hm." Still shielding the burning embarrassment on his face from the rest of the world he clears his throat. "I-If we don't hurry they're going to catch up to us and - "

"Everything is a rush with you." Now shuffling to the side of the store, Cain wears the face of a disheartened child as he scowls to himself and slumps against the refrigerator's warm glass door.

In an effort to calm down the blonde sighs heavily as he sorts through a bunch of spoiled bananas. "Why do you do that anyways...?" A wolf spider skitters across the blackening fruit, almost brushing Abel's fingers before he drops it to the floor with a shiver. "Call me that, I mean."

It's the largest smirk Abel has ever seen Cain make. His teeth glisten brightly as he bends his knees to rest his elbows on them. "Because you have a girl's ass."

Abel's mouth drops open - almost comically - he doesn't know what to be the most surprised about; the fact that his butt isn't masculine enough, or the fact that Cain just admitted to looking at it.

He settles for being surprised about all of it.

All of these are spoiled... During his scavenge through paling strawberries and mushy oranges, a dull and incessant knocking grows gradually over Abel's silence.

"Do you hear that...?" Rolled-up sleeves dip back down as the blonde motions Cain over. Two heads crane over the aisles and both gazes lock onto the creature at the door. Instinctually Abel drops to the ground, laying low as he scours the shelves above for weapons.

"Get up. Look at it, I don't think it knows what it's doing."

Not too far away, a zombie bumps gently against the glass door of the convenience shop, backing up almost apathetically only to bump into the door once again upon his advance.

"It looks...sad." The sight of the zombie's downturned parted lips and lidded drooping eyes makes Abel frown back.

"Who gives a shit? Find something to distract it. I'll grab the food." Behind the counter Cain finds six shopping bags and stuffs them with all the edible food and a couple of other items. From the corner of his eye he watches his companion grab a birthday card from the shelf then grin when it starts to play the birthday anthem as he opens it.

"Keep stuffing those bags, I have a plan."

Stringing each bag on his arms like beads, Cain cocks his eyebrow and gives a shrug when Abel cautiously approaches the creature with the card in his hand.

All is silent, spare the almost inaudible thud of the green skin against the glass. "Hey there..." Abel whispers as he cracks one of the double doors, trembling as sweat runs across his forehead. It will only take one wrong move, he knows, for him to be killed. But the thing doesn't even acknowledge that the human is there. A few more careful pushes to the door and it's all the way open, Abel standing at the zombie's side. Just then, its head snaps towards the open door, teeth grinding menacingly until Abel opens the card.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you"

Black lips close around cavity-filled teeth, and the creature holds its arms out as it begins to sway.

Confidence causes the human to cast a content smile back at his friend before placing the card into the bloody hands. "There you go..." he whispers, signaling Cain to come over with the bags and broken guns.

In another minute they're pressing through the door and passing the rocking zombie. "That was fucking weird." Looking back at the zombie, Cain adjusts one of the bags on his arms again.

They walk and the song in the background changes pitch, whining and winding down like a melting candle. It screeches, sputters and finally stops: the battery is dead.

A guttural growl crescendos into a roar and the zombie sprints towards them with renewed strength. It moves faster than both humans can see, pulling out a shard of glass from its leg and slashing Abel on his shoulder before Cain realizes what's happening. With the bag's contents clattering against each other he whips the thing's head off with the butt of Abel's gun, swinging it like a baseball bat. The zombie falls to its knees, blood squirting from where the head used to be.

The brute force of it all leaves Cain panting, his brows frozen in an angry slant while Abel stands up and brushes a hand against his shoulder.

Blood. He sees the red liquid staining his pale fingers, as visible and jarring as the body of a baby blackbird against the snow. But he hides his pain. He has to stay strong in front Cain. Instead of going into the panic his body wants him to, he pulls out another musical card from beneath his shirt. "Oh...I guess we could have used this one."

"Those damn things just make them stronger when the battery runs out." Cain shakes his head, still exasperated. "Lemme see that cut."  
He grabs Abel's face, tilting it roughly to the side but gently brushing away his hair to examine his bleeding shoulder. He frowns at it, watching the other's bright eyes meet his with fear. Gently pushing the blonde away he adjusts the bags one more time before walking on. "You'll be fine. It's just a scratch." Infection plagues his thoughts but disappears almost as soon as it comes. "Come on, I have a place we can go."

End. (Of the chapter.)

Note: No, Abel's not infected with gross zombie death. (E-Matty! We're good!!) The cause of these things may or may not even be a virus. But I'm not gonna tell you guys that. ;D Thank you a million times for reading! *sobs* Maybe 3 more chapters of this torture and then it will be the end. 

Disclaimer: (Didn't want to confuse you with the MJ thing by putting it first so it's at the end XD) I don't own Michael Jackson or Thriller. Though...I guess I didn't really say his name in this so the only disclaimer is the song/dance. Because ZOMBIES and the Glee episode where they dressed up and did that dance, that's why. Also I don't own Starfighter, Hamletmachine does (beautiful, awesome Hamlet) and she did a damn good job with it do far! <3


	6. Aspiration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Abel has both frighteningly new, and painfully old experiences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Characters are Hamletmachine's <3)
> 
> I was so unsure about this chapter I feel like it's disjointed and plot-lacking and it sucks T_T but I posted it anyways because this is as good as I could get it without scrutinizing it for another 200 years. So lemme know what you think!
> 
> Warning for Cain being forceful, blood and zombieparts everywhere, and OOC ness (I'M SO SOOORRRRYYYYY T_T) it's not that much but I'm just warning you guys in case you find yourself thinking, "Wow! When did Abel get to be such a whiner?! Vv, are you sure you even read Starfighter?" Burhurhur i'm sorry Hamlet and Abel! So Sowwie. <3 Anyways. Here's Chapter 6!

Phase 6:

"Ughhh! C-Cain it hurts...not so hard - "

"Shut up it's not even that deep stop being a fucking baby." Long and grungy nails dig involuntarily into Abel's soft skin as Cain speaks, the temperature of both bodies surging as he glares darkly at the blonde from glistening eyes.

"Nngh...Cain," Abel whimpers, those nails refusing to release his tender arm from a relentless grip as he moans. He's utterly breathless, almost losing his words at the way the other's eyes sear into his - at the way Cain's warm skin feels against his. But Cain brushes that sensitive spot once again and he just can't keep quiet anymore. "Okay, stop, stop. And it is that deep! I can't really see it from here, but I know that cut is deeper than 'just a scratch!' Stop rubbing it down so hard you're hurting me!"

Letting another steady stream of alcohol run over his fingers, the younger one spitefully slaps Abel's exposed back before beginning to smear the liquid over the shoulder's severed skin once again. "It doesn't matter how good their dance moves are I'm not letting you turn into one of them." A little frown seizes Abel's lips and Cain's face twists in irritation. "Look blondie, either I take care of this here, or I let the zombies take care of you out there."

At that threat no more words dare to escape - until the dirt beneath Cain's nails seems to take on an undead quality of its own. "Is this even sanitary?"

Stony-faced and fed up, Cain continues the treatment with a muffled, "I know what I'm doing..." but his voice barely makes it past his tightly clenched teeth. Finally he winds a long strip of gauze around Abel's arm, pressing one hand into the strip to hold it steady.

When the other hand's fingers linger longer than necessary in his hair to hold it back, Abel convinces himself that it doesn't mean a thing. But then Cain's leaning into the curve where his injury meets his neck, breathing hot against him and making his pulse rush. Not even the most innocent of thoughts is given time to turn into something lascivious as the excess gauze is bitten and broken off, Cain adding, "didn't have any hands left" after pulling away to watch Abel's pupils enlarge. "Stop staring at me like that it's weird."

"I..." An aversion of eyes centers his stare on the soot covered floor of the abandoned cellar. "I'm sor-" But something unexpected stirs within him and cuts the sentence short.

A sort of capricious confidence whips through him - an unquenchable thirst for vivacity in a world of extinction, a craving for clarity within the confusion. So he does the only sensible thing that comes to mind.

"Can I just..." Drawing a wavering breath he shifts up on shaking knees, watching the other's expression fluctuate between curiosity and suspicion as his perspiring palms press lightly against either side of Cain's face. His own eyes squeeze shut, an attempt to rid himself of all inhibitions before making his mouth crush clumsily into Cain's.

He kneels there, pushing closed lips flush against a spreading smirk. He stays there, head spinning and expecting romance - expecting Cain to confidently clasp his hand and try to taste his tongue tenderly. He moves then, parting his lips imperceptibly and waiting for the gentle passion of early courtship to sweep him off his feet.

Instead, Cain breaks the kiss with a devilish grin, throws a startled Abel to his back against the stony floor, slaps two hands onto the man's clothed knees and promptly pries his legs apart.

Abel barely has time to look surprised before Cain's crotch is rubbing roughly on top of his.

"R-right Princess," he manages to catch sight shock in those blue eyes between pushes. "You owe - mmm...me this for letting you sleep earlier."

Though his head is centimeters away from smacking the cement wall, getting closer and closer each time Cain grinds against him with enough friction to start a fire, Abel wants this. Wants to get closer to him, wants to get lost deep inside Cain's mysterious mind...wants to have Cain lost deep inside of him. So as Abel is denied another kiss, Cain opting to curl over him and press his face to the floor instead, Abel unconsciously wraps his legs around Cain's lower back and writhes as a calloused hand shoves past his jeans to grab his ass.

But something's not right. There's another sound, lying low under the sound of labored grunts and liberated moans. It's a bright but muted tinkling, melodic and sinister in the same right. Until Cain pulls back to struggle with Abel's zipper, relishing in the blonde's hot blush, lidded eyes and parted-lip-panting, neither one hears the slow and foreboding creak, creak, creak at the top of the broken stairs.

Cain's hand stills above Abel's spaceship boxers, trying to ignore the way his dick pushes against the blue and grey fabric.

"Cain...please..." Eyelashes flutter against pale skin and Abel twists his bare abdomen, squirming slowly on the floor and rolling his hips up into Cain's touch.

For a second he contemplates ignoring the abnormal sounds to take the blonde right there. Yet, the creaking persists as the music slips into discord. "Fuck."

"Yeah," The older male sighs, eyes flickering up shyly to meet the other's. "That's what I want you to d - oh!"

Suddenly Abel's on his stomach, butt up in the air as Cain rifles through his back pocket. "Hold still," within seconds something's extracted from the pocket: another opened birthday card, the music gradually winding down to a low and grinding hiss as the battery prepares to give out. Two pairs of eyes fly to the top of the stairs as the creaking continues, both men knowing that there are only seconds to spare. "Twelve seconds before the battery dies and that thing evolves. We can't shoot it from in here unless you want the bullets to come right back at you. Come on, we're getting out of here."

Pale hands come up to clasp tanned wrists. "B-but Cain! We can't just sneak past it..." he frantically glances around, trying to find alternate exits. There are none.

Ten...

"Trust me."

Abel nods, stumbling to his feet and fastening his jeans as Cain rushes around the cellar shoving food and supplies into a bag.

Nine...

He finds the guns - Cain's and his own - that he repaired in less than an hour in exchange for Cain's medical treatment. Cradling them in his arms he looks for spare rounds. "Bullets, Cain! I need bullets!"

Eight...

"In the fucking book case! Go I'll be right behind you!" He urges Abel on even as he stalls, pushing his arm angrily between cracks in the wall, searching for something, but pulls out bloody and empty-handed.

Seven...

Where is it. Where is it. Where is it.

Six...

"Shit!" He strikes something inside the wall too hard and the crack gives way, rocks inside crumbling down on his elbow and trapping him inside. In the same instant, a pile of legless rotting flesh squeezes out from a crack in the other side of the room and pulls itself towards Cain.

Five...

"Cain I can't leave you - "

"Go Abel, go! Up the stairs and out, now."

Four...

"Cain!"

Three...

"Happy bi-irthda..ay, H - ppy biiirthday..." A gurgle, a snap, a crack and the song's almost done. The voice catches and the pitch swings violently, evaporating like smoke over a crescendo of static. One last look at Cain as Abel climbs the stairs, one last vision of him struggling to dislocate his arm from the internal wreckage, one last look to make sure that the thing inching towards him is too slow to be a threat, to make sure Cain really is too far away to save.

"Abel if you don't fucking get out of here right now..."

It's that look in his dark eyes...the utter seriousness and determination that makes Abel comply, makes him turn his back and break open the cellar's flimsy metal door to escape. Without Cain.

Two...

"Happy bir-r-r-r-thday...to..."

One.

Silence.

Tears aren't the only things that sting his eyes as the door finally collapses before him. There, where the disintegrated house gives way to the scorched and deserted land, stands a zombie so putrid and decayed that it makes the tears fall. Still, he shoots the thing in the temple before it can get stronger and prepares to return for Cain. Yet, Abel can't move. What he sees strips him of all hope, survival turning into a distant and unattainable dream. For behind that zombie, stand a hundred more.

All of them stop swaying at the sound of the gunshot, each one focusing yellow beady eyes on Abel, burning his skin with the inevitability of impending death.

If I'm going to die...I want to die with him.

Cain could be dead by now, he thinks, pissed beyond measure at the fact that he left his companion there to die. There was nothing I could do to save us both... but he doesn't believe it. He watches the creatures at the front of the mob as their legs and arms thicken with renewed strength before turning on a heel to face Cain’s body.

Instead, he gets a face-full of Cain's body as he bumps right into his hard chest. "You're alive!"

Thick eyebrows are drawn together over cold eyes as he stares into the forming chaos ahead, lips thinning into a tight line.

Abel looks from the bloody shoulder supporting the bag of supplies down to Cain's torn hand, which is wrapped tenaciously around something small and round. "What's that..." he whispers, placing a hand over Cain's and trying to keep his mind off dying while the rest of the zombies transform.

"Salvation."

What...?

Cain rips Abel away from his spot and both run in the direction opposite of the zombies.

They're running as fast as they can, one of Cain's hands gripping Abel's and the other still tightly closed around the object. "T-they're gonna catch...catch us! They're...stronger now!"

"Cover your ears." When they're far enough away, Cain opens his hand and drops Abel's.

"A grenade! That's what you were looking for?!" Dropping the guns to put hands over both ears he watches as Cain ignores him, pulling the clip and throwing it into the center of the zombie herd. A flash of hot light rips through the approaching dawn and he feels himself being pulled down. The next thing he knows he's on the ground, Cain curled tightly around his body with decaying skin and corroded organs splattered across the both of them.

"You okay?" Sitting up and leaning back on his hands, Cain grimaces at the filth sliding down his shirt. When Abel doesn't answer, he looks over to find him hyperventilating, staring wide-eyed at the zombie tongue stuck to his bare chest. "Hm. By the way the night started out I figured I would be the one doing that."

Abel gawks at him, wondering if he heard correctly.

"All I'm saying," he starts, pushing off from the ground and offering the blonde a hand. "Is that I figured both of us would be covered in something besides zombie remains right now."

Another stare of disbelief and Abel turns to trudge away. "We're almost to the next state. Let's just keep going. And try not to make anymore comments."

"Tsk. Have it your way Princess Abel."

~<3~

Hope comes when they see the first patch of healthy grass.

Neither knows how long they've been walking, but the sun bears heavily down on bare shoulders and heats the stinking slop upon their skin. "My jacket smells worse than shit right now."

"Cain stop complaining I can't do anything about it. Besides. I already told you to take it off and you decided to make jokes about that instead." Abel's feet drag across the ground, his eyes heavy and watering. When he feels the dry earth beneath his feet turn to something soft - something familiar, he rubs at his eyelids until he's sure he's not seeing things.

"Woah."

It's an entire field of grass; at his feet it's yellow and sparse, but as the land stretches ahead of him the grass grows greener and thicker, flanking a path to a thick forest. It's almost as if the blades of grass were fading into a healthier world...a world where all of this would be nothing more than a bad dream. They waste no time bolting across the field and into the trees, hearts hammering with anticipation and fatigue as they weave through trees to find a clearing. And finally, as they stumble out from the edge of the forest, they see the first house that hasn't been affected by the bomb.

"You think there are people in there?" Clinging hopefully to the clean part of Cain's shirt, Abel catches his breath and glances nervously at the large home.

"I don't know." One strap slips over Cain's ripped arm but he barely blinks. He's only focused on one thing. "Come find out with me."

The Olympic-sized pool shimmers with fresh water, and cups with paper umbrellas sit on the tables. Music drifts from the outdoor speakers and two pairs of designer shoes are placed neatly by the glass door. All are signs of life. So it's a surprise to both of them when the back door swings open on broken hinges.

"Hello?" Abel shifts both guns to his back where no one can see, just in case the owners respond. But there's nothing. No evidence that there was recent life in this house but the breeze blowing through the cracked door and the ransacked living room.

"Well. They're gone," swinging around to the front of the house, Cain pushes the front door open and looks outside. "Everyone's gone." Around him, each enormous house in the neighborhood is decorated with open doors and empty driveways. "I don't know about you, but I'm gonna take this as a sign that we can have whatever we want."

Before Abel can stop him, Cain is already stuffing sparkling jewelry and instant oatmeal packets into his bag. "Try to find the shower while you’re at it..." the blonde rolls his eyes, beginning to comb the kitchen for car keys. Finding nothing, he prepares to move on to the next room - until he finds a pamphlet thrown across the counter.

District 7233...first right on route 12... blood-encrusted digits finger the laminated paper as Abel tilts his head, examining the picture on the front of a happy family standing in front of an enormous iron gate.

"Hey! I found the shower!" The call from upstairs derails his train of thought and he instantly forgets the pamphlet when Cain yells, "do you know how to turn on the water?"

After walking up the winding wooden staircase, Abel finds Cain in the master bathroom with a pink towel wrapped around his hips, wrestling angrily with the pipes. Each expensive appliance in the room reminds Abel of his own house; even the spa style shower resembles his own. The memories of what his house used to be drift back into his mind, his heart overflowing with nostalgia.

"Stop it, you're gonna break something. My parents have...had...this same shower at home, look, all you have to do is twist here and switch this thing on." Sure enough, as Abel attempts to keep his eyes on the knobs and not on Cain's abs, the pipes wail before a stream of white water gushes from the shower.

"Huh. I knew that." Kicking his soiled clothing beneath the double sink, Cain drops the towel and climbs under the spray.

Abel turns abruptly away, shoving his hand into his hair to distract himself as he bites hard into his own lip.

"Strip and get in here with me while it's still warm." The stream cascades around Cain's face and toned skin, pounding against the grey masonry of the shower almost as hard as Abel's heart pounds in his chest. After waiting a moment, he cranes his neck from the spray to glare at the trembling Abel. "Well...? Are you coming in or not?"

Good thing that birthday card when off when it did that thing would've never fit anyway "What?" White-faced and slightly disoriented, Abel shakes his head no and tries to exit the room as fast as possible.

Turning back into the water Cain scoffs and watches the red water go down the drain. "Heh. Fine. You better hope this turns into a cold shower real fast."

The blonde pretends he doesn't hear that last comment, slinking into the extravagant master bedroom instead. He heads straight for the closet, stripping down to his boxers and hoping to find a pair of men's clothes that fit him. As he pulls the closet open, he stares off towards the bathroom, wondering if Cain would look as hot in his shower back home as he did here - if his parents would have even allowed Cain in the house, that is. Thoughts drift to his family again, and he can't help but hope they're doing better than he is right now. When he finally shakes the thought away and sifts through the clothes on the hangers, his body goes rigid. His hands fly to his back just as a suit-clad zombie unfolds from behind the clothes. He considers running, but catches a glimpse of something shiny in the zombie's coat pocket. It's easy enough to shoot, more of a surprise than it is a threat, and as the shot rings out wet footsteps echo through the hallway, the shower still going.

"What happened? You okay?" Soaked hair frames shaded eyes as Cain finds Abel pressed against the wall with a gun in his hand.

"Look in his pocket, I think I saw something we can use." Abel steps up to the body, pulling down the first pair of pants he sees an handing them down to Cain without looking.

"They're keys! Shit, we have a car!" They both grin widely at each other, bursting with excitement.

Struggling to pull on any article of clothing they can find, Cain and Abel trip down the stairs and run to the street, Cain hopping awkwardly with only one leg inside the black dress pants.

Clicking the unlock button wildly, Abel searches the street for the car the keys unlock. His fragile heart skips a beat when none of the cars parked alongside the street light up.

"Hey, maybe it's in the garage. Give em to me, you go get the guns and the bag."

The thought of Cain driving away without him flashes across his mind, but Abel shakes it away and tosses the keys to him as he jogs back inside. After collecting everything he steps into the kitchen again, picking the pamphlet up from the counter, trying to decide if it's significant or not. He hears the garage opening stuffs it into his pocket, running outside. "You better not leave me here! After all we've been through -"

The other just rolls his eyes as Abel meets him in the garage. "How am I gonna drive away on a thing like this?"

Unlike Cain, the blonde instantly grins. "No way! I had one of these back home..." Stepping up to the glistening white motorbike, Abel runs his fingers over the metal where the sun hits it. The similarities are too striking; the shower, the wealth, the bike...at this point he's sure his family is in the same place the owners of the house are. "Get on behind me," climbing onto the machine he takes a helmet, handing Cain the spare. "I know where everyone is...where my family is."

Scowling at the bike out of secret apprehension, Cain reluctantly straddles the seat and clings tightly to Abel's middle when the engine roars to life.

"The fuck do you think you're going?" Voice straining over the engine, Cain digs his fingers into Abel's sides as they speed out of the garage and turn sharply onto the road.

Nothing but his family is on his mind, and Abel breathes heavily inside his helmet hoping for the best - hoping to God that he's right about that pamphlet. With his hand on the gas, he starts down the road and swallows the thick lump in his throat. "Route 12."

 

End Note (It's pretty long and rambly so you don't really have to read it): Oh dear, I hope this chapter wasn't too painful to get through. But do you hate me for trolling at the beginning? And I never usually say such dirty things T_T I mean...it's all in the characterization. Anyways, that made no sense, and next chapter is gonna be the end (I'll try not to make the resolution appear rushed because Ethan has to rescue his parents in one chapter...oh yeah remember them? They're in this too! Lol) so thank you, thank you, THANK YOU, for being sooo so nice to me and reading my first Starfighter fanfiction! :DD


	7. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the epic conclusion is reached.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On this episode of, What's Cain Gonna Say This Time, you all find out how this ends after weeks of procrastination. 
> 
> Warning: THIS IS LONG. Like, almost 7,000 words long. Also more zombie killing, so be prepared!
> 
> (Random question: Is "Alright" a word?! My teachers use it some times, but other people say it's not...?!?!? Someone help T_T Anyways.) Sorryyyyyy I put so much o.o.c. CRAP in here, it's the last chapter and I couldn't help myself. T_T Please let me know if it is too distracting! heh heh! Every time I make up a name for an O.C. I die a little inside. I really hope Hamlet never finds this story. I've taken her perfect characters sooo out of context. Everything is hers except for my stupid O.C's that I realllllly didn't want to make. Also I'm not so good at writing dialogue. =_= Anyways. It's still fun. XD Here we go!~

Phase 7: 

 

"But...I don't understand..." An anxious heart beats faster still, the rusting sign on the padlocked iron gates bringing sweat to pale palms. "It can't be closed..." Behind the gate is another solid iron structure, both barriers unbreakable.

Pebbles crunch against the ground as Cain kicks them, averting his eyes from Abel's perplexed and pouting face. "Tsk, that's what the sign says, don't it?" 

One more glance at the crumpled pamphlet, then back towards the sign. "Yes but...they have to be here! My parents, everyone else, they all have to be here. It can't be closed I just - "

The slap of another pair of shoes against the sediment startles both of them, bringing two pairs of eyes up to fall on an uptight uniformed man. In gloved hands he points a gun between Abel's eyes. "Step away from the gate," the stern voice commands, swinging the tip towards Cain as he steps forward. "Both of you. Nobody passes this point without authorized clearance."

Abel puts his hands up in surrender, backing up gradually as the security man shakes the gun, signaling for them to move further away. "My family, I though they might be here,"

"Nobody's here." Black eyes narrow dangerously above bruised lids, the man's blue and white-striped uniform crinkling as the gun aims for Abel once again. "If you do not step away right now I have the authorization to kill you where you stand." 

Battered knuckles clench against the strain of boiling anger and Cain steps forward. "Listen here you worthless piece of - "

"CAIN! Cain, stop," Abel rushes to his side, heart pounding in fear as he wraps trembling fingers around the other's injured arm. "We're leaving now, I'm sorry for the trouble, sir." If it wasn't for the fact that the guns were resting against the bike, Abel knows he would have aided Cain - but with no defense, he decides to leave. With a curt nod the blonde flies off in the opposite direction, hauling a protesting Cain all the way around the gate's corner and out of the soldier's sight. 

Cain watches as Abel presses his body against the bars to catch his breath, a defeated look swarming his usually hopeful features. "Let's just go back to the bike, we can try somewhere else. Nobody's here."

He's about to agree, the scowl slipping steadily from his face at Abel's blatant disappointment - he almost admits he'd do anything to wipe that helpless look away - but something silences them both. "Shh, look over there." Cain stretches his neck around the corner and tanned hands clap firmly over Abel's pink lips. The same armed officer gives a calculated look over his shoulders before typing a code into the electronic padlock, and when it opens, Abel's jaw drops beneath Cain's palm. For, behind the two barriers, the smell of fresh-cut grass wafts from the opening. Leaves crisp and green drift gently out to land gracefully to the ground as another officer leaves the gates to take the first one's place. Whipping around at the sound of rushed footsteps, Cain drags Abel behind a conveniently placed square of shrubbery. "There're more." Sure enough, a few feet from where they just stood, two men in blue uniforms march towards the front entrance. All it takes is a sly grin from Cain for Abel to realize what's going through his head. 

"No! We can't do that..."

"Relax, it works in every movie I've seen."

Wide eyes scan the younger's mischievous face for any sign of doubt, but Cain looks incredibly set on his plan. "You can't possibly be serious," Abel whispers harshly, his brows creasing at the implications of the unspoken plan. 

Cain's grin only deepens, the sharp white teeth glistening in the light of the sun as he takes Abel's wrists into his hands. "Trust me."

He shakes his head vigorously, blond hair flying out to brush against Cain's cheek. "No. There's no way I'm doing that with you, nope! Not doing it. No. Way."

The gravel groans, the footsteps coming closer and closer yet. Glancing from Abel to the approaching guards, Cain scowls, fed up with the blonde's reluctance. Everything is crumbling quickly; with each crack of the officers' shoes against the broken ground, with each look of disapproval from Abel and each shake of his head, the end creeps up on them, breathing foul breath upon Cain's neck and raising the thin hairs. He knows Abel's mind is working too fast, over analyzing. And as the guard at the gate's side turns to talk to the other, starting to note something suspicious among the shrubbery, Cain turns to Abel and kisses him. 

It's quick, rough, and he keeps one eye trained on the guards, but it's the only way to make the blonde lose his head enough to agree. He's whispering against Abel's lips, the other's closed eyes missing the vengeful stare directed at the men in blue. "You sure about that...?"

~<3~

Minutes later both Abel and Cain are undressing restlessly above the unconscious bodies of the guards, struggling to switch outfits with them before the one at the gate notices movement around the corner. "I cannot believe you talked me into doing it, do you know we could get arrested for this? It's very, very illegal to impersonate an officer." Hushed protests stream from the older male as he slips his leg into the navy pant leg. 

"Shut up already Abe, just trust me okay?" He puts a gloved hand on the blonde's tensed shoulder, squeezing tightly to assure him before they both round the corner. 

Taking a deep breath he follows Cain out, trying desperately to grasp at the thin shreds of patents he has left while the gate guard eyes their clearance badges. The breath truly abandons his lungs then, failing to return until the man nods at them, typing the code in and stepping aside as the doors creak open. 

Bright light caresses Abel's skin, accompanied by the soft scent of roses and the salt of the synthetic sea when the gate parts. He can see it; a utopic community, just like the one on the pamphlet. An artificial sky hangs cloudlessly over the manufactured universe, above perfect little houses and white picket fences, above the greenest of grass and tallest of trees. It's just the kind of place his family would go to in times of danger. 'This is it...I'm almost there, mom.'

"Not sure how long we got till the other two officers wake up. We gotta hurry." The only thing that throws them off is the uninhabited state of the place - everything behind the gate, from the vegetation to the calm lapping of man-made waves upon a warm shore, it's all teeming with life; a life that neither of them have seen for far too long. Everything is living, breathing with an air of pure survival - everything except people. 

"You think they could be in a different community?" That sinking feeling returns to set Abel's skin on fire, bringing him down with abundant doubt. 

"No," Cain scans the area for something out of place, finding it in a speck of blood beneath his feet, then another a few feet off. "They had to be guarding something in here, all we have to do is find out what. You know what to do, we're searching this place until we find your family." 

In that moment Abel swears that something about Cain has changed, but he can't quite figure out what. Instead, he shyly wraps his fingers around the other's in a gesture of gratitude, ignoring the way those dark eyes roll at his predictability before letting go. 

"Don't get all soft on me sweetheart, there's still plenty of time for me to sell you to the bad guys in exchange for cigarettes." He walks off then to follow the scarlet trail, knowing Abel will follow after frowning to himself for a couple seconds. 

An unnatural and disturbing silence washes over the atmosphere, brought on by the thickening droplets of fresh blood staining the concrete; but not too soon after, the silence is shattered by a spectral screech. 

"This way!" Bolting in the direction of the sound, they find a tattered storage house, large and out of place in the little world. The decaying door rests halfway open, shadows flickering across the floor and into the light. Another scream bursts from the storage house, ricocheting off the walls and introducing a series of unanswered pleas. Abel looks first, peering around the metal and choking back a gasp of horror. In the low light of the room, a thick man is strapped to an iron table; his sides convulsing violently as an officer prods at his ribs with numerous tools, ignoring his strained and futile calls for help. Finally, as Abel watches helplessly, the uniformed male rummages around the supply table until a filled syringe is extracted, a bubbling green substance threatening to shoot out at any moment. It is then that the man's cries cease, but only for a second as his tears begin to fall. "N-no! Please! Please I'll do anything! I'll give you my money, my car, anything! Take it all, just please, don't!" The tears fall from the grown man's face and Abel's heart clenches.

"Shut up, your possessions are of no use to me. The only way any good will come of this situation is if I give you the toxin, you know that...and soon, you'll be just like all the others." Dark chuckles leave the man's swarthy throat, only getting louder as the prisoner begins to beg again. Two gloved fingers flick the needle as the green liquid shoots out, and Abel knows he can take the guard on. One military man against another. 

Without a second to rethink his decision Abel bursts through the door, lunging at the officer and taking him to the floor. "Get - the man, Cain!" A bony fist pummels into his cheekbone, the officer struggling to gain the upper hand while his prisoner is being untied. 

"You...don't know...what you've done," inflamed and bloodied lips spit at Abel between punches, the officer swearing, "victory will be ours" before he is silenced by the heel of Cain's boot. 

Only the sound of the prisoner's whimpers echo throughout the nearly empty room as the guard's blood spreads across the floor and over Abel's shoes. 

"It's alright now, you don't have to worry about us we aren't really guards here," he says after scraping his stained shoes against the ground. "Everything is going to be alright." Turning to face the quivering man, Abel silently expresses his gratitude to Cain and extends a hand to the prisoner. "Can you tell us what's happening here?"

All Abel sees when he looks at the middle-aged victim is the look of complete terror inhabiting his eyes. "They..." he stalls. Those distrusting eyes flicker back and forth between the two younger men; he's searching for the characteristics of the officers, trying to decide if he can trust them or not. Not too far from his reach are plenty of tools he can use to defend himself, but just as he is about to reach for a medical knife, Abel's patents and innocence convince him otherwise. Instead, the scraggly man takes in a shaking breath, resolving to explain instead. "They're depraved. All of them...they lured us here with the promise of safety, with the promise of getting away from those creatures. Instead, the officers...they're..." Closing his dark eyes, he pauses to swallow and solemnly shake his head in disbelief. 

"Go on...you can tell us." A soft hand lands on the man's shoulders, Abel's attempt to encourage him, but the other quickly brushes him away. Nonetheless, he continues.

"Instead, they're turning us into the same creatures."

Faces flash before Abel's mind, the faces of his family and friends, neighbors and comrades. "Are there...are there any more of you here?" The question is hopeful but it comes out sounding dejected. 

"No, not here." Before Abel's face falls, the man adds, "But there are more prisoners in this community, at the very edge of the gate. As far as I know, I'm the only one they brought here, to the testing room." 

Cain stands up, finished slapping the dead officer's face around. "Well, stop wasting time and tell us where they are!" Springing towards the man's flinching figure, he raises his fist and begins to draw it back until Abel catches it in his own palm. 

Yet, the threat seems to make the man answer quickly. "I'll take you there, just please don't hurt me..."

"Not a problem if you stop blabbing and hurry the fuck up."

Abel swats Cain on the lips, turning to the prisoner with an apologetic look. "Anyways...we'd appreciate that very much. The faster we get there the more people we can save." He starts to leave the storage area, stopped by the prisoner's urgent call. 

"Wait! One more thing before we go. I'd suggest taking one or two of those with you," each man's gaze settles on the sharp medical items. "You never know what might have escaped." 

~<3~

"This is it, right here." The prisoner motions to the swipe station in front of a large warehouse, turning in the opposite direction as Cain and Abel pull the badges through. "You're on your own from here. I'll wait outside and watch your back."

Three tones sound and the garage-like door begins to creak open. "Thank you," Abel grins grimly at the man, saluting towards him as Cain starts down the long hallway. He doesn't get a response before the prisoner's shaded form is too small to distinguish from his position in the hallway. They don't have to wander for long, the disheartening rustle of prisoners’ shackles calling them to the left. 

Cain heads straight for the open room, only stopping when he realizes Abel's head is keeping them from moving forward - Abel's over thinking things again, frozen by the memories of his parents and rooted by the fear of what he might find once he crosses the threshold. Not knowing what else to do, what else to say, Cain shoots him a dark, sideways glance and nods, signaling that no matter what happens, they are in this together. 

It's Abel's turn to breathe deeply, and after nodding back at Cain, he steps forward too, prepared to face the contents of that room. 

Every chain ceases to clatter the moment they step into the room. From hundreds of cages, wide-eyed, skeletal beings peer down at them. Some crouch like feral beasts, some stand as healthy humans would, and others appear to be in the last few stages of transformation. It's a sickening sight. A decaying arm penetrates the bars of one of the cells close to them, waving weakly at Abel's face - a failed experiment asking for help and about to die. Abel almost throws up at the state the once-humans are in as other prisoners reach towards him, but the call of yet another prisoner makes him immediately lift his head, the feeling of nausea disappearing, replaced by passionate hope and raging nostalgia. 

'Ethan.'

That voice...it triggers something in his mind. Something forgotten, but in no way lost. That hand, the strong and solid hand of the human who spoke from across the room, it reaches out, beckoning the young man that used to be a boy in his arms. That name, when spoken, calls hundreds of old memories to the war-torn surface of that young man's mind. That name...it's 'his' name. 

Completely forgetting the state of the world, forgetting Cain standing next to him, forgetting himself and the fear that's kept him back, the young man rushes towards his father. At last, at long last, they are reunited. "Dad! You're here...you're actually here." He drops to his knees, starting to sob as his mother and his neighbor emerge from the darkness of their cage. "You're all here." 

The mother also cries, her tears staining Ethan's stolen uniform. "We thought we'd never see you again...I'm so happy you found us Ethan...we worried about you so much..."

Through the bars their fingers clasp, their teeth glisten with stray tears and the shine of pure relief. Ethan wastes no time in swiping the clearance card in the lock of the cage, freeing his parents and Deirdre. When the gates swing open, the two parents clutch their son to their chests and cry. 'At last...'

But surely, the end could not have come so easily. "Uhm, 'Ethan,'" Cain bites, clenched jaw grinding roughly as he joins Abel on the other side of the room to grab hastily at his arm. "Hate to fuck up your tearful reunion, but the door is closing on us." By the time Cain notices how serious it is, a set of bars crashes from the ceiling, trapping them inside as the larger door slowly screeches shut. 

And when that tear-stained face turns towards the door, fear pollutes it once more. "The man keeping watch, he must have been captured again! We have to help him" 

"I don't think so." Snarling at the closing door, Cain catches a glimpse of the same prisoner that lead them here, grinning wickedly and waving with his other hand on the swipe station. 

Seeing the former prisoner trap them inside makes Ethan restless, causing him to go around to each of the cages and card them open. "Quick, everybody, you're free! Help us find a way out of here!" Some don't even leave their cages, fearing the two new intruders more than they fear the legitimate officers. But, when a portion of the ceiling descends, carrying on it the lead officer, every prisoner shrinks back into the darkness with a high-pitched shriek. 

"You better put those back where you found them, little boy." The lead officer sneers, black stubble lifting with each deep syllable his throat releases. 

"Son...just give in, you'll lose if he fights you," the father's voice cracks before he shifts his stare to Cain. "Both of you, you have no chance against him." After those words are uttered Ethan's mother pulls her husband back into the cramped cage, closing her eyes as she wills Ethan to surrender. 

"I will not give up." His eyes burn with a new intensity, with the rage of having his family back and being threatened with the prospect of having to lose them again. 

The elevator-like contraption finally lands on the concrete ground with a barely audible tap. "But your mother's right," the officer smirks, shiny black boots softly clacking against the floor as he slinks towards Cain and Ethan. "If Vanya didn't lead you two here you wouldn't be in this hopeless situation anyways..." 

The leader's long dark hair billows around him as he picks idly at his nails, every carefree action adding to Cain's building anger. "He brought us here on purpose...?" He asks darkly, fists balling and eyes narrowing.

A light laugh echoes through the warehouse room, the prisoners cringing at the sound. "Of course...you didn't really think our officers wouldn't notice that you two didn't belong here. And after you incapacitated two of our best we just couldn't let you leave. So Vanya acted as bait...and now you're mine." 

With one quick swipe of the leader's card, all of the cages slam closed, making it safe for two other officers to drift down from the ceiling's elevator. One goes straight for Cain, stunning him with a tazer while the other holds Ethan's hands tightly behind his back. " 

Betrayal chills the blood flowing through Ethan's veins, all plans of survival drifting up through the opening in the ceiling. "What are you going to do to us..." the words are drained of all ambition - dead, like Ethan was sure everyone would soon be. 

Sauntering up to the blonde's face two pale hands cup his cheeks and squeeze lightly. "I'm going to make you part of our big plan," he coos, Cain's predatory growls going ignored. "In no time you'll be part of our great big genetically altered army." 

"Relax princess," Cain's exasperated voice emerges from the far corner as he speaks weakly between labored breaths. "He's not gonna do shit to us." His voice cuts off as he's punched in the gut. 

Still gripping the other's face, the leader glowers at Cain from the corners of his almond eyes. "Is that so?"

"I can kill this one now Vincent, Sir, if you'd like." The muscular guard holding Cain drags him up from the ground by his hair as he coughs. 

With a nasty smile Vincent relishes in the way Ethan's eyes widen. "No, not yet. I think they deserve a little story for getting all the way here." Finally he drops the blonde's face, scoffing at the way his pale cheeks bruised so easily. "Sit them down, gentlemen," he orders, and the lesser officers kick the males to the ground. "Now that you're all situated...let me tell you how this is going to work." 

Back in the cages Ethan's parents look on helplessly, knowing that if they even whisper a word, their beloved son will be killed before their eyes. 

"About three months ago," Vincent hums, sitting on the circular elevator platform and crossing his legs. "I lived in a relatively small country - that's right, the one your pathetic little U.S.A. is thinking of waging war with, you know the one." Ethan's nostrils flare. Another disinterested flick to the dirt under his fingernail before Vincent continues, "I can tell you've been training for the military, you can't hide that from me." Ethan imagines the look of terror on his parent's faces right then, the questions they must want to ask him. "Anyways...I'm a pretty well known - pretty handsome - army general back home, and we've pretty much had it with your insufferable country and your useless wars...so I carried a ton of my soldiers here with me, all of us disguised as doctors, scientists, police men...you name it. And once we successfully infiltrated this country, I began to carry out my plan. Now, what is this plan, you may ask?"

Cain lifts his head from the floor, ignoring the weight of the iron boot on his back, and spits in Vincent's direction. "Fuck off!"

The subtle cock of a thin black brow from Vincent makes one of the officers stand at attention before he makes the command. "Shut that one up, will you?"

And he does, bringing his boot down on Cain's face. 

"STOP!" Ethan cries, struggling in the other's firm hold. 

Vincent rolls his eyes, giving his full attention to his fingernails again. "Maybe if you decided to be a good little boy and LISTEN...I wouldn't have to punish you." Glancing at Cain's unconscious form he narrows his eyes. "One more outburst from him and he goes into time out." When the officer nods, Vincent focuses on Abel's shaking body, starting to tell the rest of his story. "Now, given the fact that we wanted to completely destroy your country from the top down, we decided to get involved in a little biological warfare. All of the false doctors working for me injected twenty teenagers living in your area with a new toxin. It was supposed to make them snap and murder their parents - "

"Because...most of the families in my area..." Ethan swallows around the dryness in his throat, not daring to look back at his father. "They're all politicians."

This time, Vincent laughs. "Yes! My my...what a smart little child...yes, that was the plan. To invisibly attack the politicians, the speakers of the House and senators...to instill fear into the heart of your President. To let him see the pattern of murders and figure out that I was the one behind it. But you see...our little toxin didn't react the way we wanted it to. Obviously, it turned all of our experiments into mindless brain-craving zombies. And what good are they? Like they'd be fast enough to kill every politician in the area. So the guys I stationed in the U.S. army just bombed the place, hoping that no living being would survive. They're not so keen when facing a simple grenade, but who knew zombies were nuke-resistant?" He does a once-over of Ethan, frowning deeply as he does so. "And apparently...so are you." Vincent flicks his wrist and stands in one swift motion, brushing a tailored hand through his long locks. "So now, here you are, and here you'll stay, blahblahblah, I'm gonna make you and all of your little friends into zombies and then take over Washington D.C. you get it now?" The leader snarls and cackles at the same time, shifting over to Cain's body to kick him in the ribs before standing on the elevator platform and calling his two soldiers away from the younger males. As soon as they leave to join Vincent on the lift, Ethan scrambles to Cain's side, lifting his bloody face onto his lap and slapping him repeatedly to wake him up. "And that's the last of it, my beautiful blonde child! It's recess time. Have fun fighting off what is soon to be your own kind! And, oops! I forgot...one more thing," the three officers are far above the ground now, almost through the hole in the ceiling as Vincent drops the last tip to the other humans below. "Try not to get bitten." With that, they are gone, leaving Ethan and the others in complete darkness. 

It's not long before the familiar dragging of useless legs along the ground, the stench of decaying flesh, and the guttural groans of the undead reach Ethan's ears. At this point he sits Cain's body against the nearest cage, pulling at his arms and legs, slapping at his wet face and begging him to open his eyes. He spares a second to glance behind him, beginning to panic as he sees a new cage open and release the zombies into the room. They're getting closer. 

"Cain...Cain please...I need you..." 

But he doesn't get a response. 

At least, as he grasps Cain's wrists in his hands, he can feel a faint pulse. "Mom, Dad, everyone...stay as far away from the bars as you can!" 

His parents don't respond either, too overcome with sorrow to answer. But Ethan cannot waste another moment sitting idol. Now that his hands are freed, ripping the stolen medical knife from the inside of his shoe is no problem. The first zombie goes down as he stabs it in the eyeball. Two more approach him as he stands protectively in front of Cain, but he can only cut one while the other grabs his arm. "Please! Wake up Cain!" He uses a massive amount of strength to kick the zombies away, spinning on his heel to grab the shoulders of the smaller one and throw it into the body of the other. Both creatures crumble to the floor, only to be decapitated by Ethan's knife seconds later. 

Ethan's already out of breath, panting hard as he sees three more emerge from the shadows. When he thinks all hope is gone, when his life flashes before his eyes, he remembers something useful. "I got it!" Elation surges through him, lighting him up like a firecracker. "Dad," he yells, spit slinging through his teeth as he screams. "Use mom's chains to bang on the bars! Hurry!" 

His father asks no questions and immediately begins to clank the metal together. Ethan sees it in the creatures' eyes, they stop shuffling and turn towards the noise, tongues falling from the side of boneless jaws. "That's it, keep it up, just like that!" Finally the creatures begin to dance, moving from left to right as if they were blades of grass caught in a summer's breeze. The perfect time, Ethan remembers, to dismember each one. And he does, stealthily sneaking up behind the creatures one at a time, sawing through soft necks and brittle bone in time with the beat - just fast enough to obliterate all of them before they get stronger. 

"Son...hurry...I don't know how much longer I can keep this up!" 

The zombies are falling, just as Ethan planned. But there are more - about fifty of them - still within the cage. He knows then, that there's no way he can possibly get to all of them before the plan backfires. "You have to do it dad...or they'll get stronger!"

And then a zombie in the middle of the room starts to convulse. The change is starting.

Ethan's eyes shut tightly and he looks at Cain, ready to apologize for not being able to save him. 

"Wait..." Another voice whispers, hoarse and almost silent, but nonetheless helpful. "I know something we can all do..." It's the voice of an old man, trapped in one of the cages towards the ceiling. "If everyone hits their shackles against the bars at the same time...the creatures will be overwhelmed with sound and nothing can make them attack." 

A wet cough follows the old man's theory, followed by an irritated growl. "Alright grandpa, where was that same piece of advice ten minutes ago?" 

"Cain!" Abel cuts another creature down while he watches the other male touch his bleeding scalp and then stand shakily. He decides not to ask why Cain couldn't have recovered ten minutes ago, instead tossing Cain a pair of surgeon's scissors from his shoe. 

While Cain finds his balance, every cell in the room begins to rattle, the prisoners clanging their chains against the bars as hard as they can. 

"It's working!" Ethan gasps, finding the strength to cut faster, working harder with Cain alongside him. They mow through the hoard, watching in a stupor as the creatures hold their melting ears. Louder and louder the bars ring, the zombies curling over themselves and writhing on the floor just before the blades slice through their necks and leave them useless. After a few more clips, they're all gone, the concrete floor covered in a bloody sheen as the last of them bleed out. 

Cain rests against an empty cage, breathing heavily and pressing a clean finger to his head. "Thank you," Ethan wheezes, rushing to Cain's side and stealing a bit of his breath for a kiss. 

He then hurries to the swiping station and unlocks all the cages again, thanking each prisoner at once before returning to his family's side. Only after embracing him once more do their brows furrow at what they'd seen him do to the other man. 

"I can explain..." Ethan starts, avoiding eye contact with his loved ones while the other prisoners find the elevator's button and bring the circular lift back down. 

Without warning Cain comes up behind him, a defensive look coming to his face as he's stared at by Ethan's family. "You don't have time. They'll figure out the cages are open any second now. We gotta get all these prisoners out." The corners of the father's lips slip slightly downward after Cain walks towards the elevator. "Abel, you stay down here and make sure all the people get on okay...I'll stand at the top and lift them out."

Turning pink, Ethan agrees with Cain's plan, stepping away from his parents and his neighbor to load the unconscious prisoners onto the lift first. 

The idea works fast, and after riding the lift, all of the prisoners exit the facility as Cain lowers them carefully over the fortress walls with Abel at the bottom to catch. Finally, Cain climbs down to meet Abel and his parents by the bike. As far as they can see, the officers still don't suspect a thing. 

"You know what," Deirdre suddenly announces, taking a step towards the shaking blonde boy. "I don't give a damn. Those two just saved our lives and that's all we should care about." 

Suppressing a smile Ethan looks up at his father beneath long eyelashes. "Dad...I..."

Nothing else is said; not even Cain dares to breathe as they all wait for the father to respond. 

"Well," the older man starts, giving his optimistic wife a sideways glance. He watches his son's breath catch in his throat. "I suppose...that Ethan is going to need someone to protect him if he really is going to join the army." 

"What!" Now out of direct danger, Ethan manages to smile, letting the relief wash over him as he catches Cain's bewilderment from the corner of his eye.

"We love you, polar bear," his mother runs a cold hand through his almost-white hair before watching the escape route descend back into the darkness. "And we always will, no matter what. But we seriously have to leave the premises before any of the guards find us." And, though he's shocked beyond belief, he knows his mother is right.

"Thank you, Cain," Ethan's father coughs, noticeably uncomfortable with addressing the other man. "Now, let's get the Hell out of here." 

~<3~

"Today marks the two year anniversary of what we were sure was the Zombie Apocalypse, and it would have been, if not for local hero Ethan - " 

"Oh look! Your son is on TV again!" A party guest calls to Ethan's mother as she smiles radiantly from the kitchen. 

"Why, yes. He is," her smile is almost as bright as the pearl necklace strung around her neck. Around them, the new house is filled to the brim with flamboyant guests, all of them gathered to celebrate the return of Ethan, the newly dubbed war hero. 

"Ethan's army beat the bad guys that made those zombies, right mama?" The guest's child bounces excitedly on the couch as he watches the news in awe. 

"Yes, honey," the woman ruffles the child's dark hair, turning towards Ethan's mom. "If it weren't for your son we probably wouldn't be sitting here right now. Thank you."

She nods, stealing a catered quiche from a waiter before wondering where her hero of a son could possibly be hiding. 

In the ballroom, Ethan lifts a hand from Cain's suit-covered waist, trying to avoid getting stepped on for the fifteenth time that night as they twirl. "See, if I actually let you lead this would be a whole lot worse..." the blonde starts, biting back a smile as Cain glares at him, not amused in the least. 

"We've been spinning for a full hour now, and I ain't getting any better!" The dark-haired male keeps trying to do the steps Ethan's mother taught him, but he just can't seem to get them down. The grimace remains plastered to his face - until he thinks up a new idea. "Tell you what Abel," he says letting go of the other's hands and leaning into his ear. "How about we go upstairs and do something I 'know' I can lead?"

Ethan presses a hand to his mouth, stifling a giggle and a blush at the same time. "Was that supposed to be an innuendo? Because it sucked." 

Rolling his eyes, Cain takes Ethan's hand in his and marches him to the upstairs bedroom. "Yeah, I know what else you can...never mind."

~<3~

Fingers tangle in blonde strands of sweaty hair, pulling Ethan down to kiss roughly as Cain's other hand explores the soft and supple skin of Ethan's back, the hot and labored breath brushing against the younger's open mouth urging him to kiss deeper, to go faster.

"C-cain I can't...nnghh...can't go up and down on you that well if I'm - oh God, right there - if I'm falling off the....the bed," 

Cain tries to give the blonde the harshest of glares, since his own head slipped completely off the bed's side five minutes ago - the only thing holding him horizontal being Ethan's position on top of him, but he's too enraptured by the way Ethan keeps meeting his messy movements so damn meticulously. So instead of arguing with him Cain drops both hands back to those skinny hips, guiding Ethan's body briskly back and forth and watching his waist writhe while he drives his own hips upward. He focuses on the blonde's swollen lips as Ethan throws his head back and reaches behind himself to grip onto Cain's thighs, focuses on the way Ethan's teeth bite hard on the bottom one. 

"Yes! Harder Cain, more!" 

Just as he's about to comply, as he feels Ethan tighten around him, as his abs tense with impending release, the blonde yells, loses his balance, and topples onto the floor bringing Cain down with him. "Abel! What in the actual fuck?" Sitting on the hardwood floor with his back against the night table, Cain checks for dick damage. 

"Sorry...I thought I heard something." Standing slowly, Ethan grabs the sheet from his bed and wraps it around himself. 

In a fit of irritation Cain cracks his jaw and glowers at the other man. "What do you mean, 'thought'?" 

Without looking back, Ethan shuffles towards his connected bathroom, closing the door quietly behind him once inside.

"I'm okay, just in case you were wondering!" 

The sarcastic call from the bedroom barely registers as the shower curtains twist ominously. Step by step, he approaches his shower, heart palpitating vigorously in anticipation of what he could possibly find. A robber? A spy? With a shaking hand, Ethan pulls back the curtain, his eyes widening tremendously, for, what he sees is both better and worse than finding a spy or a robber in his tub. 

"Ethan..." his little cousin Eleanor whimpers, an easily recognizable trail of bubbling green liquid dripping from her little mouth. "I don't feel so good." 

'That's impossible,' Ethan balks, 'we...we cured all of the test subjects...'

But beneath his gaze, as the girl begins to transform, only one thought rampages his mind like an unstoppable epidemic:

"It's happening. Again." 

 

OOPS IT'S THE END! No sequel! That's just how it ends! Sorry! I suck! Goodnight! I love you all! (3:30 AM banter with myself) 

 

End note, pretend it's under a cut: Well boo-hoo, I'm not ready to do a full on cainxabel part because of what happened last time. =_= A-at least I wasn't trolling this time....? (Jk still did anyways plz forgive me. Ooohoo hoo, crying so hard at how long it took me to type that one sucky little part, two hours of crying about my innocence and about ten minutes of actual typing. I'm sorry, I'm just a baby!) And I know it's probably the most unrealistic ending in the history of the world, everybody kisses and makes up and whoopty doo, Abel's dad magically is okay with all of his choices. But you know what, I just wanted Abel's dad to be a really swell dude for once so that's why it's like this. lol! Ugh I was literally writing this chapter from 4:00 pm yesterday to, well, NOW. And BY GOD IT'S THE LONGEST CHAPTER OF ANYTHING I'VE EVER WRITTEN, EVER. But I soooooo love you guys, so much, and I appreciate every single comment/kudos, and you all are my friends so thank you a billion bunches for reading this! <3 Let me know how I did with my first Sf story! :D Thanks again!


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